


Lady In Waiting

by TheJoysOfAMultishipper (Amemah)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Head Bitch In Charge Pepper Potts, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Virgin Darcy Lewis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2642360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amemah/pseuds/TheJoysOfAMultishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy had honestly never questioned her actions. Except that was total bullshit and holy fuck how was she still alive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady In Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Heia :)
> 
> EDIT: Fixed a continuity error pointed out by the lovely tiziano  
> EDIT II: Fixed three spelling errors 
> 
> This started out as a Darcy Lewis/Nick Fury-fic, and the alternate version of that is almost finished. That might get published soon, or never. We'll see. 
> 
> This is not a recovering fic, but maybe I'll expand on this universe later. It's definitely possible, and the ending is quite abrupt, I realize that. For now, this is all I have though, but you never really know with me. I don't really have any control over my own writing, it's awful. 
> 
> I reserve the right to edit this if I see any mistakes missed, but there shouldn't be too many. 
> 
> Let me know what you think?  
> [My Tumblr! Come say hi!](http://thejoysofamultishipper.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Kyss og klem <3

_You often find yourself asking about the kinks of former Soviet-assassins?_

Leigh Anne Lewis, her mother, had been scared of her words. The fear of communism from the Truman-doctrine had yet to fade, and the wary look in the midwife’s eyes hadn’t exactly helped. That the word _assassin_ was thrown in probably didn’t soothe her nerves any more. Her father, Aeneas, had named her Darcy. He thought _dark_ seemed fitting for someone destined to love a murderer, assuming that the one asking her even _was_ the assassin.

 

As she grew older, Darcy saw the irony in that. As if _violent fate_ had any feet to stand on. 

 

Despite their morbid thinking, Darcy grew up in a loving home. She had two older brothers, Alasdair ( _So you’re a soldier, huh?)_ and Connell ( _Wow, you’re really tall.)_ , and as you could tell by their names, soulmates were to be cherished in the Lewis-household. But despite the soulmates being held at a slightly unrealistic pedestal, the children were given condoms on their fourteenth birthday. Darcy never used hers.

 

Notwithstanding the nature of the words, Darcy never felt anything else than safe when looking at them, or stroking them through her jeans. She always kept them covered though, but she didn’t quite know why. It could just be the way every single adult who had ever looked at them, looked at _her_ differently, or it might have been because they were _hers_. Though she knew she would at some point meet her mate, she was also aware she could be just as happy without them. So Darcy tried going on dates when she got to Junior year of high school, made out with some guys in the back of their cars and if they were nice, they’d get to feel her up through her bra. But though she considered going further, it never felt _right_. She knew she could, but she also knew she didn’t have to. So Darcy kept her pants on, and the condoms wrapped.

 

Her mother had asked her about it once, wondered if the reason she was still a virgin was because she was scared of her words. If she worried he might be the jealous, angry, slutshaming kind.

“Being able to choose what to do with your own body _could_ mean having sex with everyone you see, and that’s completely fine. _But_ it could also mean saying no. So, that’s not why,” Darcy had explained, putting some dirty plates in the dishwasher.

“That’s what I thought, honey. I just wanted to be sure,” The ‘ _if he turns out to be one of those, I’ll kick his ass’_ was heavily implied. And the way Connell was looking at the steak knife in his hand supported this statement worryingly.

That was all that was said about the more _intimate_ part of her words. No one seemed to care, or at least wasn’t surprised. Well, there was every teacher she ever had before the age of eighteen that refused to let her wear shorts, but what could she really do? It’s not like it was _her_ fault the words were on her thigh, was it? Hint: _no_ , it wasn’t.

Darcy herself didn’t mind them that much, long since accepting the fact that she wasn’t the most tactful person. Whatever, it’s just a part of the charm.

 

The adults that looked at her differently were the reason she got into political science.  The way grown people could be so afraid of nothing more than an _ideology_ baffled her, but they also angered her. Yes, she understood how important the free market was for capital growth, _which they would never fucking shut up about_ , but still. The sheer amount of ignorance was insane, and on top of being angering, it was _interesting_. So she went to the former British Colony of Virginia and enrolled at Culver University straight after senior year. She didn’t have any idea what she would do afterwards, considering the sad state of the job market, but figured being a barista didn’t sound _that_ bad. If worst came to worst, she had already gotten three invitations to work at a burlesque club – two different ones, even! –, So Darcy did have some prospects. Apparently, if your figure was great, who cared about your ability to dance? And if the offers made her father clench his teeth and smile, “You do you, sweets,” he should have seen it coming.

Calling his child _the dark one_? Seriously.

 

Since she wasn’t _actually_ planning on becoming Christina Aguilera #2, she went to see Dr. Betty Ross when she came back to teach at Culver. She was the one to tell her about Jane Foster when the six famous science credits didn’t magically appear, and she still wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for that or not. Darcy knew her smarts were in another kind of science, but since her power of observation were the reason they figured out Thor was in that tornado, or whatever it was, so fast, she didn’t dwell too much on it. And if the surprised look on Jane’s face when she made that comment about the Vikings worshipping aliens was a bit hurtful, Darcy was a big girl and got over it. It wasn’t Jane’s fault she was a bit too distracted with her own science to remember anything about her intern, not regarding physics-credit anyway, and it wasn’t like Darcy was blindly worshipping her kind of science either.

 

After the destroyer was gone and Jane was done making out with aliens, SHIELD gave her a few, very long, documents to sign that said she wasn’t allowed to mention anything to anyone. Of course, they should have thought of that before they took her goddamn iPod, so Darcy Anne Lewis called up her father and told him _everything_. For her own personal safety, she probably should have waited until she was _out_ of the building, but eh. You reap what you sow. It gave her father a good laugh, and that’s what’s important anyway.

 

Somehow, despite all this, Jane still managed to convince them Darcy was essential for laws of physics to be broken, and got her on payroll. As she walked down to the labs, she saw a training-session where baby-agents were taught how to kill things with paperclips, and she hoped that would be the epitome of surprise that week. But SHIELD proved itself to be a place of Weird Shit, so the beautiful, perfect Pepper Potts walked in and offered her a job. _What_.

 

“You seem to be able to keep Dr. Foster alive, and I’ve seen your credentials going back to middle school. You’re more than qualified,” She, _Pepper freaking Potts_ , smiled.

“That sounds illegal,” Darcy said, pouring some coffee into Jane’s cup. Pepper merely raised her eyebrows at her, tilting her head.

“It’s not. Hacking into cosmetics-companies’ websites and peppering them with pictures of the animals they test their product on, is though,”

“First of all; how long have you been waiting to make that pun, and second; you can’t prove anything,”

“So very long, Miss Lewis. And, no, we can’t. Which is why Mr. Stark would like to share you with me and Foster,” Ms. Potts’ tone of voice made it clear she was reciting.

“That sounds vaguely sexual, and I have a feeling that was his exact point.” Darcy smirked, handing Jane a sandwich. She was muttering something about stupid alien-princes who _couldn’t even fucking call, seriously, the All-seeing Heimdal has to have access to a fucking phone, the asshole._

 

“Yes,” Pepper sighed, giving her a small stack of paper. She ignored the ramblings of the astrophysicist, clearly used to the same behavior at home.

“These papers are your contracts, and there’s a new one for your employment with SHIELD. You’ll need it since you’ll be working for both Stark Inc. and our resident world security-expert. The papers should clear up any grey-areas regarding your employment.”

“Seems very… Professional.” Darcy nodded, reading through the first page. She was a bit lost for words here; honestly just happy she wasn’t fangirling all over the place over _Pepper Freaking Potts_. She got to the end of the page quickly, having mastered the art of skim reading in her sophomore year of High School, but it wasn’t the swirly signature of Pepper Potts that stood out.

“Is that Director Fury’s signature?” Darcy asked, incredulous. _Why the fuck does he oversee this?_

“Yes,” Pepper took a seat at one of the workbenches, managing to look like a queen having a chat with her meager servants, _without_ looking like a dick. Darcy was extremely impressed, and Jane didn’t seem to notice. She was rambling quietly about Einstein and how _he probably never had to deal with heartbreak, did he; because if he did he would have fucking figured this out already!_ Darcy passed her boss a shot of Vodka that an agent had dropped off after Darcy nearly had a nervous breakdown in Coulson’s office. He was a good man, when he wasn’t stealing (“ _Acquiring_ , Ms. Lewis,”) iPods. It was even the Russian stuff, and Darcy was pretty sure she’d seen _the_ Agent Romanov exciting their lab with a shot of her own in hand.

 

“Shouldn’t that be classified?” Darcy asked, looking up from the writing.

“Probably,” Pepper shrugged, handing her a pen from one the millions who were lying around. “They just caught The Winter Soldier, so the people usually dealing with that is probably dealing with… _That_. Him, sorry.”

 

“Hm,” Darcy took the pen, and went through the small stack of papers, initializing and signing wherever the colorful arrows were telling her to do so. She was pleased to know they actually did that in real life, and not just in legal dramas starring an aging man angry about not being at the top of his game anymore.

 

Darcy handed the papers back to Pepper, just now realizing that The Winter Soldier was a former Soviet-assassin, and with how fucked up he probably was – thanks HYDRA – he probably did have some unusual kinks. Maybe. She definitely knew she shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, but luckily Pepper Freaking Potts saved her from the abyss frequently called Darcy’s Brain And Its Thoughts.

“Welcome to Stark Industries, Ms. Lewis,”

“Thank you, Ms. Potts,”

 

“Lady Darcy!” Thor’s voice boomed through the halls of SHIELD’s Headquarters, making nearly everyone of her co-workers glance at the Prince running down the hall, falling into step behind her. It was three weeks since Pepper Potts swept into the labs and nabbed her out of Jane’s hands. Or, that was what Jane had claimed once she reached earth and noticed Pepper sitting on one of the tables. As she realized it would be sharing and caring, not stealing and cheating, she stopped making noise about it though. Besides, at this point Darcy was already in way too deep with Jane to ever leave her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

 

“Hey you! What’s up?” Darcy smiled, flicking through her papers, trying to locate the one that would give her the ID-card necessary to access pretty much everything she needed. Apparently, when you’re the liaison between SHIELD and Stark Industries in everything but name, you learn some _very_ interesting stuff.

“Quite a bit, my lady. The Captain’s long lost friend has been found, and it would appear he and the Widow shared a life together when in the hands of HYDRA.” Darcy paused in her steps, whirling around to stare up at her friend.

“Really?” She asked, thinking of her mark. Ever since that conversation with Pepper, – they’re on first name basis now, it’s awesome – she hadn’t been able to let that stray thought about the Winter Soldier go. Though it seemed a bit unlikely that a man just recently un-brainwashed (Darcy’s vocabulary is impressive, but she honestly doesn’t think there’s a word for this.) would have a wit like that. Then again, Alien gods, so yeah… Unlikely, but not impossible? Complicated, anyhow.

 

“Yes, it’s been quite an emotional day, I’m afraid,” Aforementioned Alien god sighed, resting a huge arm around her shoulders. Darcy didn’t complain, grateful to have her own furnace, even if it did make balancing on her heels slightly more difficult. She knew Thor would catch her should she fall anyway.

 

“I’m sure,” She murmured, still searching through the papers in her hand.

“You seem tense, sister,” Thor commented, steering them towards the elevators.

“What, where are we going?” Darcy looked up, not bothering to answer. Yes, she was very tense, thank you very much. Her job was great and wonderful, and for the first time in ages, Darcy was truly happy about her life. But it wasn’t exactly a stress-free environment she worked in, dealing with Tony Stark and his slightly suicidal ways. Add to that Dr. Banner and his depression, and Jane’s general inability to keep herself fed, and Darcy had no need for anything more to do. Luckily Pepper wasn’t as self-destructive, and when she stayed in her office long into the night, she at least ate something. And that’s not even mentioning her soulmark.

 

“I will introduce you to the Winter Soldier, I think you two will get along brilliantly,” Thor answered easily, beaming down at her.

“That sounds extremely stupid,”

“Why?”

“Because people who has recently been brainwashed tend to be somewhat… _Delicate_. And I’m really not,” Darcy said, but knew it was a long lost fight. Thor had already pushed the button taking them down to SHIELD’s training facility. Her hesitancy to meet the soldier certainly didn’t have anything to with her reluctance to deal with Possibly Important Things. Obviously.

As they stepped out of the elevators at one of the lower levels, she noticed a lot of agents were standing in front of the windows looking down at the hall where Sergeant Barnes and the Black Widow were hashing it out. Darcy couldn’t bring herself to make fun of the starstruck looks on their faces when she saw the downright _beautiful_ dance they were doing, Barnes all raw strength and glimmering metal, Romanov sleek and manipulating movements. Neither of them seemed to be winning, because as soon as Barnes had his arm around Romanov’s neck, she would flip them over, and said arm would be three centimeters away from breaking. Darcy had no trouble believing they’d _shared a life together._ (Sex. She was talking about the sex.)

 

“Come,” Thor commanded, grabbing her hand.

“What, now?” Darcy asked, looking longingly back at her place safely _behind_ the window.

“Yes, Darcy,” Thor laughed, leading her down the stairs. “I’ve told the Widow of you felling me with your lightning, and she was very impressed. She wants to meet you,” He opened a door, dragging her through the opening.

 

“Natasha!” He shouted before Darcy had the time process _that_ , and she wanted to cower at the intensity in Romanov’s eyes as she stared at them. Barnes had his prosthetic around her throat, _again_ , but he took the time out of his day to stare at them too, ever the gentleman. There were several suits standing by the walls taking notes on the couple, but they too looked up at their entrance. They were still fascinated with the whole alien/divine deity-thing, but Thor faced their looks with the grace of a… Well, future King of Asgard. One who didn’t look as awestruck or curious, was Steve Rogers. Darcy was used to seeing him around the tower, exchanging a few words here or a nod there, but she’d never really been on the receiving end of his Soldier-stare. It wasn’t as arousing as some of the accountants had claimed. Darcy felt cheated.

 

She didn’t feel so cheated that she didn’t take the time to possibly insult a former soviet-asset and his maybe possibly girlfriend, at the very least ask about their sex-life. (She knew very well this had absolutely gotten someone killed before, but YOLO, right.)

“ _Maybe you should ease up on the breathplay, soldier?_ ” Darcy asked; and if she thought Steve’s stare was intense before, it was now. It still had nothing Barnes’ though, and he held her eyes for the longest three seconds of her life, before laughing.

” _You often find yourself asking about the kinks of former Soviet-assassins?_ ”

“I think the politically correct term is _assets_ , but I’ll totally respect your preferred title,” She said in a haze, her eyes boring into his. They were really pretty, far too beautiful to have seen the shit they had.

“That sentence sounds rehearsed,” Barnes answered, long since having lost the grip on Natasha. She was watching them curiously, undoubtedly having seen the soldier’s soulmark before. Darcy was _not_ looking forward to that shovel talk.

 

“Yeah, um, transgendered people," Darcy's mouth had a tendency to run way from her, but educating super soldiers on the current acceptance of LGBTQIAP+ people was... Unexpected. "Lots of assholes refuse to use the correct pronouns when talking to or about them, and that really pisses me off,”

Darcy stepped closer to the man, so close that she could feel the heat radiating. Barnes was shirtless; streams of sweat dripping in small beads down his body. There was a light sprinkling of chest hair, just enough to make sure he had gone through puberty. But still, as nice as the defined muscle was, - and it was _very_ nice – his smile was really something on its own.

 

“I’m sure you could tell me more over cup of coffee, don’t you think, doll?” He asked; head cocked to one side. His hair was falling into his eyes, some of the strands even long enough to touch on his scruff, but he was still the most handsome man Darcy had ever seen. She also really liked the nickname-thing, but she wasn’t planning on telling anyone that.

“I prefer hot chocolate with marshmallows, but I understand the coffee-part wasn’t the most important bit of that sentence,” Darcy answered, and for the first time in a long time, she felt her cheeks heat up. She was _blushing_ for fuck's sake!

“No, it wasn’t,” He laughed, but it was a kind laugh. One that said _you’re cute and your fumbling for words while I blind you with my 40’s charm is even cuter_. Darcy was really good at reading people, and that was totally what the tiny tilt of his lips said. _Totally_.

 

“You haven’t even told me your name yet,” She thought asking would be smart, unsure if calling him by the name in her 9th grade History-book would be rude or something. Darcy decided to just ignore all the people staring at them from everywhere, but she figured that Thor’s gasp when the yet-to-be-formally-named-human-being first talked to her, gave a small inkling to what was going on. Besides, they were SHIELD! There was no way they hadn’t documented every mark on the man when he was brought in, so they _had_ to know.

 

“It’s James Barnes, sweetheart,” He – James – said, doing a little bow for her. Yep, he was her soulmate, alright. “Mind tellin’ me who you are?”

“Darcy Lewis, Pepper Potts’ Lady in Waiting, and though I'm not one for defining myself by the men in my life, to say I'm your soulmate would be correct."

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me, as I am not a creative genius. Have mercy, don't sue.
> 
>  
> 
> If you can spot the references to Criminal Minds, we can be best friends.


End file.
